"No, it sounds like you didn't have very good teachers, certainly not very compassionate ones. But there are all kinds of ways to learn better reading skills now, and there are some counseling places that specialize in that kind of thing. If you want to go, we'll go. It's up to you, Angel. But right now you have to tell me two things. Tell me when our baby is coming, and please, oh, please, God, tell me you're happy about it."
Angelique hugged him tightly and showed him her deep dimples in a wide smile. "I'm very, very happy, my husband. I'm going to have your baby! And I'm going to give him to you for Christmas, how does that sound?"
The months passed quickly, and soon it was August and Angelique was a very busy, as well as a very happy, expectant mother. She did agree to go to a center that would help improve her cognitive skills and one of the things she and Donnie learned to do was side-by-side reading, where they sat next to each other and read aloud from the same book. After a month or so of this her reading skills improved tremendously, and so did her interest in books. Donnie brought her some she thought were the most wonderful in the world-novels by Pearl Cleage-and she was utterly captivated by them. What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day, I Wish I Had A Red Dress, and Some Things I Never Thought I'd Do all served to take her to a new level of interest as well as skill; she wanted to read more and more. Soon she started taking great pleasure in getting books that not only had lyrical phrases but hot love scenes in an effort to reward Donnie for taking the time to read with her. They became well acquainted with authors Francis Ray, Leslie Esdaile, Bette Ford and Beverly Jenkins. Donnie was particularly fond of Beverly Jenkins's historical novels, while Angelique's favorite was Janice Sims, who wrote exceptional contemporary novels.
Now paper and hardback books were everywhere in the house, not just the audio books she had utilized so effectively before. She was extremely proud of herself and eternally grateful to her understanding husband. The only thing that would have made her life complete was the one thing she wouldn't ask him for: a ring. The platinum one from Tiffany was still in a drawer and she made no effort to get it sized because she hated it. It was big and gaudy and not to her taste at all, but she was so pleased that he'd bought it for her after their debacle of a wedding in Vegas, she couldn't bring herself to say anything. What she wanted was something simple and pretty in yellow gold, but she felt it would be ungrateful to ask for another.
She also wanted a real wedding, but she wasn't about to bring that up, either. She just couldn't see spending all that money when they were already married. So it wasn't the wedding of her dreams, at least she could remember it now. Frankly it wasn't as sordid as she'd feared, it just wasn't what she thought of when she thought of a wedding. It was nothing like the wedding of Lisette and Warren, that's for sure. They were getting married that Saturday and her mother was coming in on Sunday, so Angelique had plenty to do without worrying about rings she didn't need or weddings she shouldn't have. Her life was good and she had no complaints, just lots of blessings.
***
As was usual at any gathering, Paris, Angelique and Lisette were the last three remaining. This time it was appropriate because the occasion was the bridesmaids' luncheon, a sweet tradition before a wedding. Lisette had treated her four bridesmaids and maid of honor to a lunch she prepared herself at her home. She would soon be leaving the house forever, as she would be moving to Farmington Hills with Warren. Her sister Miriam, the maid of honor, had to leave as she had a date with a man she was quite serious about. Warren's sister Valorie had to depart due to babysitter concerns, as did the other bridesmaid. So it was just the three of them sitting around in the partially packed house, talking. They were finishing off the last of the nonalcoholic pomegranate Bellinis Lisette had made while they talked about the changes the year had brought
"I met Warren for the second time in January, and here it is August and we're getting married. Of course, I had to chase him down like a dog and beg him, but it worked," she said with a laugh.
Paris stared curiously at Lisette. She had been out of town for several long stretches and missed some crucial developments in the Lisette and Warren romance.
"What are you talking about? Ever since he met you Warren has been knocked off his feet; what do you mean you had to beg him? And is there any more of that fruit salad?"
Lisette went off and came back with the bowl of fruit salad and three big spoons. She shrugged as she handed out the spoons. "May as well eliminate the middle man, you know we're going to eat it all. Now, my dear Paris, the thing is that my Warren was being a perfect gentleman. A true gentleman; `he took me out, wined me and dined me and he never put his hands on me," she said indignantly "Oh, he would kiss me until I couldn't remember my own name, but he never acted interested in anything else. I couldn't figure out what was wrong because he always told me how much he loved me. And I love him, too, too much to not find out why he didn't want to make love to me." She stopped to scoop up some fresh pineapple from the now-communal bowl and went on.
"Well, I'm bold, but not that bold, so I had a hard time figuring out how to approach him. And then everything sort of became clear one day. We were invited to a party given by a dear friend of mine. I was very pleased about the invitation because Clinton was my very first sweetheart and we had stayed friends for years, even though he lived in Texas. Now he's moved back to Michigan and he was throwing a party and Warren didn't really want to go, but he didn't want me to be unhappy, so we went. And when he met Clinton, the look on his face was simply priceless." She laughed.
"Clinton is about six feet tall and he has reddish-brown hair, light skin and lots of freckles. And he's a big man, actually bigger than Warren, in fact. Warren was too polite to react, but on the way home he had all kinds of questions for me like how old I was when I dated Clinton, how long we went together, if Clinton had a weight problem then.... That's when it dawned on me. Warren is somehow self-conscious about his body. He seemed to think of me as some kind of little porcelain doll and he didn't want to get undressed in front of me. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, so I yelled."
Angelique's eyes filled with merriment and she said, "You went to the Evilene School for Mean Divas, did you? Shame on you!"
Lisette didn't look one bit ashamed as she finished the story. "I was just furious with him. It was as if he thought I was too shallow to appreciate a big, handsome man like him," she said with a flash of remembered anger. "What did he think I meant when I said I loved him? Where was all this leading to if I didn't find him sexually attractive? Oh, I went off on him for old and new, I really did. Of course we had to make up after that, and we made up and made up and finally it began to sink in that I find him irresistible in all ways. We were almost there when he discovered that I'm a virgin. Well, honey, he jumped off that bed like it was on fire and the whole argument started over again. He refused to touch me because I hadn't been touched."
Paris stopped fishing for mango pieces to interject. "Wow, that's what you call a deal breaker. So what did you do?"
"I got a chair and stood on it so I could yell in his face. It was terrible. I was so angry that I sounded even worse than Pepe Le Pew. I was crying and yelling and talking broken English and the bottom line was if he didn't plan to marry me, he'd better get out of my house, out of my life and leave me the hell alone because I loved him too much to play games and I was through with being frustrated. Now you have to understand that I was wearing a sheer pink push-up bra and a matching thong and nothing else. I was quite a sight, I assure you."
"Ooh, Lisette! No, you didn't, girl! What happened then?"
"He put his shirt on, zipped up his pants and left. I called my sister Miriam and talked to her half the night; I was sobbing the whole time, of course. And the next day he came to my door with a dozen orchids, a bottle of Moet et Chandon, a huge box of Godiva chocolates and this," she said merrily, waving her two-karat ring with the perfect blue-white oval diamond. "Et voila, here we are about to be married. Although he is still a perfect gentleman," she said ruefully. "He's making me wait for our wedding night."